


Sister Date

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bitterness, Dry Humping, F/F, Guilt, Incest, Marijuana, Pining, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: "We should have a date," said Allison."What?""A date," said Allison. "You know. Yay sisters?""Oh," said Vanya. "Yeah. Yeah, that, uh, that sounds like fun. Let's do it."Vanya and Allison have a girl's night in.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: RelationShipping 2020





	Sister Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rokosourobouros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rokosourobouros/gifts).



> I had a _ton_ of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

"We should have a date," said Allison, and Vanya nearly dropped the glass that she had been washing. 

"What?" Vanya looked over her shoulder, and she tried not to blush. 

"A date," said Allison. "You know. Yay sisters?" She made an awkward little hand motion, like jazz hands, and Vanya smiled in spite of herself. 

"Oh," said Vanya, and she smiled nervously. "Yeah. Yeah, that, uh, that sounds like fun. Let's do it." She rubbed her hands together, rocking on her heels in front of the sink. "Anything in particular you'd like to do?"

"I was thinking we could have a girl's night at your place, maybe?" Allison rubbed her hands together, and she looked faintly awkward. 

They'd all been awkward, since they'd gotten back from Dallas and sorted... everything else out. And now Allison was living back at the mansion ("for now," although "now" was two months and counting), and Vanya had her apartment back (somehow - she wasn't going to look too closely at it, what with one thing and another). She'd come for lunch, to say hi to Mom and Five, and she'd run into Allison. 

"Sure," said Vanya. "Sure, girl's night. That, uh, that sounds fun. Never done that before." She gave a smile that she hoped wasn't too awkward, and she tried to ignore the way her stomach fluttered when Allison smiled back. 

"Might even bring a surprise," Allison added, her tone conspiratorial. 

Vanya turned around, leaning back against the sink. "What kind of surprise, exactly?" She wiped her wet hands on the dish towel, more to do something with her hands than because she wanted them to be dry.

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, would it?" Allison asked, and Vanya couldn't really argue the logic of that. 

"Just... please don't bring anyone else, please?" Vanya asked, and she really wished she didn't sound as plaintive as she felt. 

"I _said_ it'd be a 'yay sisters' date, remember?" Allison said, and she looked faintly affronted. “It’s for sisters.” 

"Well, yes, but I've had friends who tried to set me up that way before," said Vanya. 

"I swear, on my honor as your sister, that I won't try to set you up with anyone," Allison said, and she held one hand up like she was taking an oath of office.

"Is that the Girl Scout salute?" Vanya asked, frowning.

Allison looked faintly sheepish. "It's the only one I remember, okay?"

"Why do you know the Girl Scout salute?" 

"Remember when we were kids? Dad wouldn't let us join the scouts because we were all busy training and fighting crime and all that, but then we ended up being made honorary scouts, so Dad made us all study it and learn the salutes and all of that." Allison cleared her throat, to fill the awkward silence after she'd spoken. 

"I don't remember that," said Vanya. "I wasn't part of it." The old resentment began to bubble up in her stomach, and she forced it down.

"Well," said Allison, "we could do something about it. If you want."

"I'm a little old to be a Girl Scout," Vanya said dryly. 

"You're never old to recapture your lost youth," Allison said, and she said it so _earnestly_ that Vanya had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. "Which," she added, in a voice that was so perky it had to be artificial, "is what we're gonna do on our girl's night!"

"If you say so, Allison," Vanya said, but she was still smiling. 

* * *

Allison showed up to Vanya's apartment on Friday night dressed casually (for her), her hair tied back and her eyes very bright. She was beautiful, because of course she was, and Vanya couldn't stop the grin stretching across her whole face. 

"Hi," Vanya said, and she stood in the doorway, grinning like a fool. The fact that _Allison_ was standing there, in her hallway, and that they were happy to see each other... it was a lot. 

"Can I come in?" Allison asked, after a beat of them both smiling at each other.

"Oh! Yeah! Of course!" Vanya stepped aside, to let Allison in. The yellow hem of Allison's dress brushed against the rolled up cuffs of her jeans, and she caught a whiff of Allison's perfume as the other woman passed by. 

"So I brought something special," said Allison, as Vanya closed and locked the door behind her. 

"Yeah? What'd you bring?" Vanya watched Allison kick her shoes off, then fish around in her purse. 

"I found Klaus's old stash," Allison said, pulling out a little baggie. It was full of rolled up joints, and Vanya's eyes went wide. 

"Oh my god, Allison," she said, and she giggled, then covered her mouth with one hand. "You didn't."

"This might not actually be an _old_ stash," Allison said, her tone reflective. "I'm not actually sure if he's on the wagon again or not."

"Oh," said Vanya. 

"But," Allison said, "he keeps stealing my makeup, so I figure that we're even." 

"Right," said Vanya. "I, uh, I've got some beer. If you like beer. And maybe we could order some Chinese food, or maybe a pizza?"

Allison grinned. "That sounds like a good plan," she agreed. "Where are your takeout menus?"

Vanya indicated the collection of little leaflets by the phone, as her sister made her way through the apartment, as comfortable in Vanya's personal space as she was on the red carpet, or punching some bad guy in the face. 

_How does she make it look so effortless?_ Vanya wondered, as she sat on her own couch, watching as Allison took the phone off the wall and began to dial. _Even when we were kids, she managed to look so put together._ Vanya remembered her own puberty, and all of its indignities. As opposed to her own adulthood, and its own indignities. 

And now she was falling into that old trap again, fuck. 

"Shit," Allison said, looking slightly guilty. "I forgot to ask - what d'you want?"

"Oh," said Vanya, "anything with chicken is good, as long as it isn't too spicy."

"I remember when we were kids, you couldn't _stand_ spice," said Allison, and then she was giving the order into the phone. "Got us an extra order of egg rolls too, and some wantons," she told Vanya. "I always get extra hungry when I'm high."

"I didn't see you as the getting high type," said Vanya, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them. "From your Hollywood days?" 

"Not even," said Allison. "I tried to keep a squeaky clean look when I was in Hollywood, what with... one thing and another." She waved a hand, and her Umbrella Academy tattoo caught the light. 

"Right," said Vanya. "So when were you getting high?"

"Me and Klaus," said Allison. "Sometimes me and Klaus and Diego."

“Oh,” said Vanya. She wasn’t sure why that felt like such a gut punch, and yet.

“We, uh, we didn’t know if you were into that kind of thing,” Allison said, correctly reading the look on Vanya’s face. “And, y’know, it was -”

“It’s fine,” Vanya said, before Allison could finish whatever justification it was she was trying to cook up. “Don’t worry about it.” She forced a smile. “All in the past, right?”

“Right,” said Allison. Another awkward silence. “So,” she said, going to the baggy that she had left on the kitchen table, “shall we?” She fished a rolled up joint out, putting it to her lips and fishing a lighter out of her purse.

“Let me just… hold on,” said Vanya, getting up and opening windows. “Don’t want the place to smell too much like weed, when I’ve got lessons on Monday,” she told Allison.

“Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that,” said Allison, and she wrinkled her nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Vanya said, and she smiled. “You probably don’t have to worry about that kinda thing much, do you?” She opened the windows, and the smell of rainy concrete wafted into the room like a mist. 

“You’d be surprised,” said Allison. She leaned against the windowsill and lit up the joint, taking a pull. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she exhaled a plume of smoke from her nose. There was just enough of a draft for it to be blown out the window. She took the joint and held it out to Vanya. 

Vanya took it between two fingers, and she took her own pull. She had just enough experience smoking not to cough, but it was a close call. She exhaled from her mouth, and then she sighed, the burnt gingerbread herbaceous flavor filling her whole head. “We should’ve done this after we’d eaten dinner,” she told Allison, as she passed the joint back. _It’s an indirect kiss_ , some traitorous part of her mind whispered, and she metaphorically shooed it off. 

“Yeah, probably,” said Allison. She took another pull, and Vanya tried not to notice the way her lipstick stained the paper. “Oh well. There’s a lot of weed in there. I don’t think we can smoke _all_ of it before the food gets here.” She held the joint out to Vanya, and Vanya took it. 

Hopefully, Allison wouldn’t notice the way that her lips covered the lipstick stains. 

* * *

The food arrived when they’d smoked all of the one joint, and were debating whether to start another one. By then, Vanya was feeling loose limbed and fuzzy headed, her mouth dry. They sat at her kitchen table, clumsily eating Chinese food together and giggling. 

“So then Klaus looks up at Mom in that wide eyed way he’s got, you know the way,” Allison said, and she was laughing, her hair slipping out of her ponytail to hang down around her face. She was so _pretty_ , and Vanya was too stoned not to stare openly, tracing the line of Allison’s forehead to her chin, the way the light caught her hair like the moon in a tree. 

“You’re beautiful,” Vanya said, and her voice was too earnest for its own good. She stared into her rice, and she hoped that Allison didn’t notice the way her ears were turning red. 

“Thanks,” said Allison. “You’re pretty yourself, y’know.”

“You’ve always been beautiful,” said Vanya, fiddling with her chopstick. “Even when we were kids. I used to think you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. Like… of course you were a movie star. Because you’re so gorgeous.” Vanya grabbed her glass of water, took a slug of it. 

“You were pretty too, y’know,” said Allison. There was something vaguely defensive in her voice, and Vanya looked up. She could feel her eyebrows trying to meet, her forehead wrinkling. 

“You’re just saying that,” said Vanya. 

“I’m not,” Allison insisted. “And you look so much happier now. Like yourself, too.”

“Well, y’know,” said Vanya, “not having to wear a school uniform all the time helps.” 

Allison laughed, and whatever tension had been building between the two of them seemed to break. She took another egg roll, and it crunched as she bit into it. It was very loud in the kitchen, but the sound was a welcome to the slightly nervous silence that had been building. 

Allison’s foot nudged against Vanya’s under the table, and Vanya, emboldened by the weed, pressed her own foot back. She caught Allison’s eye, and Allison gave her a sly smile, but didn’t do anything else. 

Vanya’s cheeks heated up, and she took another bite of her dinner. 

* * *

“Can I ask a question?” Vanya sat on her living room floor, her back against the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her. 

“That _was_ a question,” said Allison, and she burst into giggles. When she laughed, her breasts jiggled and her thighs jiggled, and Vanya was stoned enough that she couldn’t _not_ notice it. Allison was flat on her back, her feet propped up on the couch cushions, and her dress was demurely draped between her legs, covering up anything that couldn’t be shown on television. 

Not that Allison hadn’t been in her underwear on television. She’d done a movie with a topless scene, even. 

Vanya had watched that movie in theaters, after she’d read the glowing reviews mentioning Allison’s “dignity with toplessness,” which had left her weak in the knees. She’d watched in the theater with a hand over her mouth, and she’d replayed the scene over and over later that night in bed, with blankets pulled over her head and a hand between her legs. 

“So?” Allison asked, and Vanya was jerked out of her reverie. “What was your question?”

“... I forgot,” Vanya said sheepishly, and then she shook her head to clear it. She watched the cherry red tip of the joint as Allison took another deep inhale. “No, wait, I got it.”

“So what’s it?” Allison passed the joint back, and Vanya took a deep pull. The smoke filled her lungs, and she held it there, then blew it. 

“You mean what is it,” Vanya corrected, and she giggled again. Then she took a deep breath. “Okay. Like. Why do you still…” She indicated the dress. “Why dress like that?”

Allison propped herself up on her elbows, and she looked over at Vanya, one eyebrow raised. “Like what?”

“Like… girly. Femme. I think that’s a dress you’d have gotten away with… y’know, back there.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder, as if she was hitchhiking. “I kept getting dirty looks ‘cause I didn’t… wear that stuff.”

“Why didn’t you?” Allison asked. “I mean. I didn’t wear dresses all the time.”

“I just… don’t like ‘em,” Vanya said meditatively. “Never sorted me. Not sorted. Suited. Never suited me.”

“You looked good in the suit,” said Allison. Now she sounded thoughtful. “In that suit you wore, at the concert.” 

“The white one, or the black one?” Why was Vanya pushing that? She didn’t like to think of that.

“They were technically the same suit,” Allison said. She gestured for the joint, and Vanya handed it over. “But it suited you.”

“Thanks,” said Vanya, and she was giggling at the word play. “Do you… I mean…” She tried to find the words. “What was it like, when you did this with Klaus?”

“I didn’t do it like this,” said Allison. She passed the joint - now almost burnt down - to Vanya, and groped around for the little baggy, grabbing another one and sitting up awkwardly. She leaned forward, and she pressed the unlit joint against the smoking tip of the one in Vanya’s mouth. They were close enough that Vanya could have counted Allison’s eyelashes. 

Allison flopped back down, and Vanya dropped the little stub of the joint onto the saucer that had been pushed into service as an ashtray. “Did you do that? With them?” She watched the way Allison’s lips wrapped around the joint, and she thought about being a teenager, and watching Allison’s mouth at the dinner table. 

She was blushing very hard. 

“I did a lot of things with them,” said Allison. Her tone was meditative. “Probably shouldn’t have, in retrospect.” 

“What, like, kill people?” That was harsh. Vanya nudged Allison’s side with her foot, and Allison took the foot in her hand, squeezing it. 

“I probably shouldn’t have done that, either,” said Allison.”We had a _really_ fucked up childhood.” 

“We did,” Vanya agreed. “I used to be jealous. Of you guys, I mean. That you got to… go on missions. Do stuff. Get parades.” 

“Parades were nice,” Allison said. “I used to like those. Although getting confetti out of my hair was a pain in the ass.”

“To have such problems,” Vanya said teasingly. 

“It was harder to get blood out,” Allison added, and now she was staring at the ceiling, taking pull after pull of the joint. “It’s the smell. It stays in your hair.” 

“Oh,” said Vanya. She didn’t have an answer to that. 

Then Allison sat up, so suddenly that she spilled ash across her front, and startled Vanya enough to make an embarrassing noise. “You know something I used to do with Klaus?”

“What’s something you used to do with Klaus?” Vanya asked.

“Well, Klaus and Diego,” said Allison. “But only once with Diego. He uses too much tongue.” 

“What?” Vanya blinked, trying to wrap her mind around whatever it was that was going on.

Allison Took a long pull of the joint, holding the smoke in her mouth. She held her hands on either side of Vanya’s face, her palms pinkies on Vanya’s temples, the joint between two fingers, and she exhaled smoke, aiming at Vanya’s mouth. 

Vanya’s eyes stung, and she inhaled the smoke. They were nose to nose, and her hands were resting on Allison’s thighs now. The fabric of Allison’s skirt was very soft under her palms. She exhaled, and they stayed close together, Allison’s face millimeters from her own. “You did this with our brothers?” Vanya asked, and they were so close together that her lips were almost touching Allison’s. 

“Yeah,” said Allison. Her voice had a rough, breathless quality to it, although that might have been all the weed. 

“Didn’t that feel weird to you?” It was definitely weird for the two of them to be doing this now, pressed so closely together. _If I look down I can probably see down her dress._

“We didn’t have anyone else,” Allison said. Her breath was sending little puffs of air across Vanya’s face. “Who else was I supposed to do this kinda stuff with?” 

“I didn’t get to do it with anyone else,” Vanya mumbled. “I didn’t… I mean…” She was pulling away, but Allison was following her, and then they were kissing.

It was the kind of kiss that Vanya had been dreaming about since puberty. Allison’s lips were soft, and Allison’s tongue was gentle (if dry) against her own. When they pulled apart, they were pressed forehead to forehead, panting, and Vanya was trembling. 

“Now you have,” said Allison. “A little late to the party, but… better late than never.”

Vanya’s head spun, and then she was pressing herself closer, chest to chest. Her mouth was on Allison’s, and there was a hand motion as Allison dropped the butt ( _I hope that doesn’t burn a hole in my rug_ ), and then there were hands in Vanya’s hair, and they Allison was making a desperate little noise against Vanya’s mouth.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this,” Allison murmured, as her hands moved down, to fumble at Vanya’s shirt buttons. “What with the… everything.”

“The everything,” Vanya echoed, as she clutched at Allison’s shoulders. 

“We’re sisters,” Allison said. “I never… I shouldn’t have, with the boys.” She’d gotten Vanya’s shirt open, and she palmed Vanya’s breasts through the thinness of her tank top. “And… but…” She shuddered, groping like a clumsy teenager in the back of a movie theater.

Vanya brought her own hands into play. Her head was spinning, and her mouth was full of cotton. Her heart was loud in her ears, and she could hear Alilson’s as well, thumping desperately. She moved her hand down, and then she was being straddled by Allison. She had her hands on Allison’s hips, then up under Allison’s dress. She was grabbing Allison’s ass through the thin cotton of her panties, and the heat of her body was like an inferno.

“I was in love with you,” Vanya whispered against Allison’s lips, as her tank top was yanked up over her breasts, and then her nipples were bared to the air, getting hard in the colder air, from the stimulation. “Am in love with you.” 

“Of course you love me,” Allison said, and her tone was surprisingly sweet. “You’re my sister.” She pinched Vanya’s nipples, twisting them like radio dials, and Vanya hissed, her back arching. 

“But…” Vanya brought a hand up, tracing the scar across Allison’s throat.

Allison took Vanya’s hand in her own, and she kissed the knuckles, pressing them against her cheek. She kissed them, and Vanya could feel her trembling. She kneaded Allison’s ass, and she pulled Allison closer, the skirt of Allison’s dress riding up. When she looked down, she saw her own hard little nipples, and the paler skin of Allison’s inner thighs as the hem went up. 

“I know,” Allison said, and Vanya wasn’t sure if Allison did. Or if _she_ did, for that matter.  
Allison bent down, and she kissed Vanya again. It was a wetter kiss this time, her breath hot against Vanya’s cheek. She seemed to be tasting Vanya’s mouth, as her hands explored every inch of Vanya’s small breasts. “I love you too, y’know,” she whispered, right up against Vanya’s lips. 

“Were you in love with me?” Vanya slid her hands up further, dug her nails into Allison’s back and raked them up.

Allison hissed like a cat, arching her back and pushing her breasts into Vanya’s face, and her knees squeezed Vanya around the ribs. She was grinding forward clumsily, although she must not have gotten much friction. “I loved you then,” she told Vanya, and there was a lot of history in her words. It wasn’t the answer Vanya wanted. 

_But were you in love with me?_ Vanya didn’t say, and the words stayed on her mouth like a ball of mercury, no doubt poisoning her. She pressed her face into Allison’s cleavage instead, mouthing at the curve of one breast. She bit down, hard enough to leave a mark, and Allison made another needy, desperate noise. 

“I love you, Vanya,” Allison said, and her hands had left Vanya’s breasts, to go to her head. Her fingers wove through the long hair, and she twisted it around her fingers and _pulled_. 

“Fuck,” Vanya gasped, and she fumbled Allison’s neckline lower. Allison let go of her hair to flat on push it down. Her tits spilled over, and her nipples were right _there_ in Vanya’s face, lovely and hard and brown. She sucked on one, pressing it against the roof of her mouth with her tongue, and then she pulled off with a _pop_. “I used to… think about this,” Vanya murmured. “Did the boys get to…”

“A few times, yeah,” Allison said. “You’re better than they ever were.” 

“I’m older,” Vanya said, which was true. “More practice.” Probably also true. 

“Should’ve done this sooner,” Allison panted, and then she moaned, as Vanya’s hand went between her legs, pressing against the damp lace of her panties. She gripped one inner thigh as high as she could go, and she squeezed tight. The bony part of her thumb pressed against Allison’s wet labia and her clit, and Allison gasped, grinding her hips forward. 

_Maybe I wouldn’t have blown up the moon if we’d done this sooner_ , Vanya didn’t say. _Why didn’t you notice I was in love with you?_ She rotated her wrist, grinding, and Allison pressed forward, panting over the top of Vanya’s head. She was full on humping Vanya’s hand, and her breasts were rising and falling in time with each gasping breath. 

“You’re so beautiful, Allison,” Vanya said, and her eyes kept darting between Allison’s bare breasts to her hand between Allison’s thighs. “You’ve always been so beautiful, fuck, yes, you’re so _wet_.” It was easier to do this when she couldn’t see her sister’s face, when she didn’t have to think about the fact that this was _Allison_. With the fog of the marijuana, it all had a faintly dreamlike quality, and she was afraid if she looked up she’d wake up, tangled in her sheets and throbbing between the legs. 

“You feel so good, Vanya, oh fuck, Vanya,” Allison gasped, and her fingers were digging into Vanya’s shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “Vanya, please, I’m almost there, I love you, you’re so - I’m sor - _ah_!” 

Whatever she had been about to say was cut off by a particularly well done twist of Vanya’s wrist, and then she was trembling, gasping through what was clearly an orgasm. She flopped forward, nearly smothering Vanya. Then she let one leg fall over, and she sprawled out on the floor, inelegant and adorable in her post orgasmic haze. 

“I always forget how horny weed gets me,” Allison said, and her voice was only slurred a little bit. She was smiling, all drowsy satisfaction, and she leaned forward, pressing a little kiss to Vanya’s cheek.

“It just makes you horny,” Vanya echoed, and why was her stomach plummeting down towards her feet? She was trying to ignore the sadness that seemed to be blossoming through her, ashes of roses spilling out of her mouth instead of words. 

… Wow, she was stoned if her brain was going down those routes. 

“I’ve wanted to… do that. For a while,” said Allison, and now she was avoiding eye contact. “Since I found out about you and Sissy, I kept… thinking. About you. And a woman. And then, well… I mean…” She trailed off. “I don’t know.” She dragged her hands across her face, and she looked like a vaudeville actor. It made Vanya giggle in spite of herself. “I’m too fucking high,” she groaned. 

“You’re high and you fucked,” Vanya agreed. _She’s wanted to do it for a while_ , she thought, and that helped some of the sadness. _So what if she hasn’t loved me as long. She still loves me._

“No, I _was_ fucked,” Allison corrected. She was waving a finger and wobbling. “I haven’t fucked yet.” She turned to Vanya, and there was a glint in her eye. “We should fix that.” 

“I mean,” Vanya said, and her mouth had gotten even drier, “if you insist.”


End file.
